


#12: Fear

by RocioWrites



Series: 20 words [12]
Category: Jurassic Park III (2001)
Genre: M/M, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4271763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocioWrites/pseuds/RocioWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m okay.” He rasps out, voice hoarse. Despite lying through his teeth, Alan doesn’t call him out on it. “I’m…” He chokes on his own tight throat. “Yeah.” He finishes foolishly, hanging his head low.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#12: Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this shows Billy's fear after JP3, basically it describes his (almost) panic attack and it's an obvious allusion to his PTSD. Proceed with caution if needed.

Dread rises from the pit of his stomach all the way up until his throat is clenched tight and his mouth uncomfortably dry, his heart hammering furiously inside his chest as if it wants to propel itself right out of his ribcage and flee. Billy swallows against the lump is his throat unsuccessfully, praying to any gods out there that might hear him to please _please_ calm him enough to not fall into a panic attack in the middle of the party.

It’s ridiculous but he can’t help it, the fear comes automatically at the sight of the lake – the water is clear and serene, slightly warm, almost everyone from the dig-site is playing there. _Nothing like then_ , he reminds himself inwardly. The air is pure and it smells like fresh water and grass; yet, he has trouble evening his ragged breathe. He hears laughter and shouts full of joy; however, it feels like a faraway murmur, his mind set on those awful screeching sounds and the desperate call one Dr. Alan Grant yelled over and over again.

_BILLY! BILLY! BILLY!_

Seeing that amount of water sets his brain into reliving those memories, eyes watering at the dull ache he still feels all over his body – his arm will never be the same and his knee gets so stiff some days that he can’t even get up from bed.

Cheryl is waving at him, huge smile on her face, showing off her pink and yellow bikini, water a bit over her knee. It’s enough to have him panicking for her, waiting— _expecting_ a prehistorically beast to fly right to her and drown her. His scream of despair dies in his tight throat when nothing happens, fingers twitching uselessly at his side as if trying to reach for something to prevent him from drowning himself.

The lake is harmless, he’s in the middle of the USA where there are no dinosaurs, he’s surrounded by friends and classmates and this senseless fear should just disappear. Billy simply can’t reconcile his logical side with his irrational one and it’s all a big mess fighting inside him.

Chest constricting his lungs, he half-heartedly waves back willing himself to smile back but he’s sure the expression on his face is anything but happy. Probably there’s not enough oxygen in his system, he feels too lightheaded and his heart doesn’t want to diminish its fast pace, the beating loud in his ears like some white noise following him since the moment he landed eyes on the body of water.

“You okay?” Cheryl mouths at him, eyebrows furrowed in a scowl.

He tries to say yes out loud if only to try out his voice. Nothing happens, mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. Billy nods then, once, twice, slowly because he’s too dizzy for sudden movements.

It’s not convincing, he knows. He’s not sure but his legs feel too weak, they’re probably trembling, he’s probably shaking like a lonely leaf in a harsh breeze. There’s no wind picking up now so he has no excuse as to why he may be shaking, he’s not cold either. On the contrary, he’s sweating, shivering fiercely.

 _This is not like then_. Oh how he wants to convince his irrational fear of this, he’s safe here, nothing as horribly tragic will happen here.

“Billy?” Alan is not calling him in frenzy, it’s barely a worried whisper by his side.

He has to stop this nonsense, it’s just an innocuous lake where everyone is playing around and having fun. The more he thinks about it the more violently he trembles, chest painfully constricted, old injuries coming alive and pulsating achingly.

“Hey, Billy.”

A hand comes to rest on his good shoulder, it lands there tenderly, he scarcely feels the warmth of the contact through his blue cotton shirt. Cheryl watches him for a moment longer, frown smoothing out – she shoots him a shy smile and nods, returning to her friends and their conversation.

“Billy, look at me.” Alan orders in a firm yet fond tone. It sounds like such a contradiction that it has him turning to that voice, eyes wide with barely contained panic, mouth half open and slack, nose flaring because he can’t get enough air. ”What is it?” The concern is so affectionate he ends up feeling his knees wobble too much for him to remain standing up, finally deciding to lean into the hand and the rest of Alan’s body for support.

Alan guides him away from the shore to a more secluded area and sits him, somehow producing a glass of cool water. Is Billy in shock? He’d like to know. However, he merely takes the glass and drinks a long sip to calm his dry mouth and relieve his tight throat.

“Slow, deep breathes.”

He peeks up and Alan is wearing a worried expression, lips curling downwards, stern face framed by the ever-present fedora hat. It makes it hard to obey but he tries nonetheless. He inhales; counting to three, he exhales. His hands go to his knees trying to prevent his limbs from shaking.

“That’s it.” Alan encourages, offering a small smile.

He attempts to smile back. Repeating the process of inhaling and exhaling slowly, he feels better focusing on Alan and forgetting about the lake, about the rest a few meters from there. Forgetting about this inherent fear water elicits in him – almost as forceful and disturbing as the sounds of birds cawing and heights.

The laughter and water splashing is easy to identify even above the beating sound in his ears so he takes the glass again and drowns the rest of the drink, feeling ridiculous at his own reaction. When Alan removes the glass from his grip, he’s looking nothing short of grim.

“I’m okay.” He rasps out, voice hoarse. Despite lying through his teeth, Alan doesn’t call him out on it. “I’m…” He chokes on his own tight throat. “Yeah.” He finishes foolishly, hanging his head low.

“Do you know what triggered it?” Alan asks, too knowing to be anything other than right on this.

Billy can’t possibly expect Alan to not understand irrational fear at inoffensive normal things. Their bodies and minds react without permission, that’s nothing to be ashamed of, they both _know_. Again, he can’t reconcile his rational with his irrational side. He’s not even hyper-vigilant anymore but still.

“The lake.” He confesses as softly as he can, voice a mere mumble.

Alan looks at him and nods, in the end crouching in front of him almost in between his legs. His trembling has subsided enough for him to not kick Alan accidentally.

“I see.”

Billy swallows against the lump in his throat once more, feeling too vulnerable, too exposed.

A free day with everyone deciding to take a break and enjoy this lake and the good weather should have not turned into a nightmare for him. And he couldn’t even fathom the idea of opposing to the trip and be a killjoy.

Alan grabs his hand and squeezes. His chest doesn’t feel as constricted as before, breathing has become a bit easier too.

“Do you want to leave?”

It’s a great offer, he thinks it over. Billy doesn’t want to simply leave but he _can’t_ go back to the shore, much less try to socialize with others when he’s a hair away from a panic attack.

“I—”

“We don’t have to tell them why.” Alan supplies helpfully. “Surely they can come up with various reasons why I’d take you away.” He adds, lopsided grin showing.

Billy chokes a strangled scoff of a laugh at that. Alan isn’t one to make suggestive comments but this one was quite smoother from what one would give him credit for.

“Sure. Yes. Please.”

“Thank God you agreed quickly.” He claims, standing up with some effort and giving a mild tug with his linked hands. “I don’t think my legs would have been able to handle it if you hesitated too long.” Billy follows suit and stands up too. “I’m too old for most of these things.”

In any other occasion, Billy would have made a suggestive remark of his own. He appreciates the easy escape this gives him though.

Cheryl and a few others watch them go, secret smirks and cheerful joking whistles follow them to the old car. Billy sits in the passenger seat ignoring all of that, mindful of refraining himself from watching towards the lake – it’s like a train-wreck, he doesn’t want to watch but he feels pulled to it by a powerful unknown force.

He sighs when Alan starts the motor, vehicle coming to life and rolling them out of there. He feels guilty for leaving but his irrational part feels more at ease with every mile they put in between him and that lake. Eyes trained on his knee, he hopes Alan has an idea where to take him, he doesn’t trust himself right now to choose a place.

“Is this better?” Alan says softly as if to not startle him.

“…Yeah.”

Being on that island changed his life forever. He fears harmless things now, even things he used to love like heights and the adrenaline it got him. He can’t practice extreme sports anymore, his abused bones can only keep him walking and running for not too long. He’s a mess now, sleepless nights plagued by night terrors, bitter days when everything hurts.

He looks out of the window, feeling too tired and spent after that roller-coaster of emotions, too raw to rest yet too exhausted to feel like doing anything.

Billy wants to ask where are they going but Alan is humming along to a nonexistent tune and it’s really endearing, lulling him to doze off.

“Are you really okay?” Alan musters the courage to ask before he drifts off to sleep. There’s no answer that will be honest enough or comforting enough. Billy nods either way. “If you need it we can get you some professional help.”

As if.

“No.”

“I’m just putting it out there, Billy. It’s not an attack to you or your mental state.” Alan sounds sincere and half focused on the road that Billy isn’t even looking at. “You aren’t weak for needing help, you know that, right?”

He feels his eyes watery again, an annoying sting telling him tears are about to spring.

“I know.” It’s tense but he does know. “I just need more time.” _To think, to forget. To recover by myself before deciding someone else can help_. Alan watches him a moment or two before returning his eyes to the road and nodding like he hears and understands everything left unsaid. Billy wouldn’t put it past him – Alan has shown again and again that he can be an attentive friend and lover. “Besides,” He continues, aiming for his usual humor. “what therapist would believe my fears come from flesh and bone pteradons going after me?”

Alan shrugs. “Ellie.” He replies as if her mere name is answer enough.

It is, to be honest. She’s the more resourceful person they’ve ever met and if someone can get Billy help, that’s Ellie Sattler, bless her merciful soul. Her heart is big enough to accommodate Billy’s needs in her schedule if only because she’s still Alan’s best friend.

“Ellie.” Billy concedes, not a hint of jealousy there. “I’ll think about it.”

They can compromise on that at the very least.

“Good.”

A bit after, he stops reminiscing that day, barely remembers paying attention to the actual lake everyone’s enjoying. He _is_ a killjoy in this state after all, and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth but really, that’s nothing compared to not being able to breath through a constricted throat while every pore of his body sweats as his limbs tremble viciously.

“Did you want to stay?” Billy asks timidly, suddenly aware that Alan never imposed anything on him even when he has suffered as much as well.

“Not really.”

He doesn’t know whether it’s the truth or not but he’s grateful for Alan’s unconditional support – it’s probably one of the things that has kept him sane for so long.

“Where are we going?” He questions uninterested, snugging more comfortably against the worn leather seat.

“I know a bar.” It’s all the explanation Alan gives. Billy finds himself nodding in acceptance. “But you’re not allowed to get too drunk.” Alan chastises, half smile of amusement present.

“You either and that’s a deal.” He bargains.

Alan gives a short laugh and nods. “Fair enough.”

Billy is slowly but surely starting to feel better, his rational side winning what seemed a lost battle. His lips form a huge smile, honestly grateful for Alan and his love.

“I hope you know a motel too.” He half jokes, half wishes for it and Alan chokes on his own spit, a mild flush dying his cheeks.

It’s amazing how he can get _that_ reaction, Billy is so delighted he puts a hand on Alan’s thigh, giving a soft caress.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Mr. Brennan.”

“Don’t be so grumpy, Dr. Grant.” He counteracts.

Billy knows his heart hasn’t stopped the fast pace and there’s still a residual dread in the pit of his stomach that makes weird somersaults from time to time. To be honest he’ll only be able to swallow a beer or two before being too sleepy or wanting to throw up, his tired mind begging for clemency now. He knows Alan will take him to some hotel with questionable precedence and a lousy bed – that’s all they can afford if they want to keep the dig-site running. He’ll fall asleep soon after hitting his head on the pillow, wrapping possessive arms over Alan.

He’ll be lulled by Alan’s steady breathing and the strength he shows after two deadly encounters. Billy won’t ever stop being amazed by this man. He won’t follow his promise, all empty words, sex isn’t part of the plan today. He’s too panicked still and Alan is too worried for it to work.

“Don’t be so grumpy?” Alan echoes. “You’re asking too much of me.”

Billy laughs and agrees jokingly, resting his head on his shoulder, the hand on Alan’s thigh never abandoning his won position.

“We’re still far, why don’t you try to rest some? I’ll wake you when we get there.”

“Okay.”

He dozes off with Alan’s humming reverberating inside his own chest, feeling protected and more at ease. Billy may need help with his fears but for now Alan is enough to keep him sane; he’ll think about Ellie getting him a good therapist tomorrow, for now a beer and cuddling with Alan sounds like it’s all he needs.


End file.
